again...again...

I’ve always been interested in the way things begin. The first words an author starts a novel with. The first sounds you hear when you listen to a new album. The image that appears after the darkness fades away when a movie begins. When I was little I thought that everything had to meet my approval; the first few moments of any bit of media had to satisfy my need to know exactly what was going to unfold. Everything had to flow along smoothly until the logical conclusion was reached. Anything that I could consider a deviation was a flaw and, however small, soured the experience just a little bit.
That was then. That was when I thought things should glide in a smooth circle, everything fitting gently in the right place. Now, I relish curveballs. There’s still something to be said for following protocol, but I prefer it if the narrative line bends into a curve like a Formula 1, making it but doing so with a collective gasp from the audience, a near-catastrophe sharply averted. Even more so, I love it when I don’t know what the hell’s going on, when I blindly stumble into a new movie or book with only a vague notion after the poster of the cover.
Personally, I think I just like being surprised. Maybe it’s a reaction to my media-saturated brain having grown far too accustomed to perfect authentic cadences and the boy getting the girl. Even if the ending is tried and true I at least want a complete harmonic meltdown at some point in the middle.
I once read a quote that the second time you see something is really the first. First impressions are to introduce and second ones are to clarify. I like that idea. Reading a book the second time around makes it your favorite. A week’s worth of listening to a record tells you what it’s really about. Looking at the things you don’t always look at make the difference between “good” and “brilliant,” “enticing” and “safe.”
I think a bit of confusion is a good thing.